


What it takes to step through

by crookedspoon



Series: No Nuptials Necessary [12]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Cock Warming, Insecurity, M/M, POV Jason Todd, Pining, Role Reversal, Sexual Roleplay, Wife Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 15:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: "Wanna fuck me?" Dick had asked, and what Dick wants, Dick gets. Even if Jason is gonna have a crisis about it.Takes place afterFree fall through our midnight.





	What it takes to step through

**Author's Note:**

> Another wifey fic that was nearly the end of me. 
> 
> Work history: Started in April and reworked like four times, before picking it up again in September. It blocked me for nearly three weeks in October, but I slogged through, barely in time for Amnesty. I think I should have dropped out completely to give it the time it needs to get good, but also my friends were excited about a bang-length wifey-fic, so here were are ;;

Jason has been out of sorts for days.

Even went as far as sending Dick a text saying he has to go underground for a while and that he'll be in touch once he resurfaces. Not a pinch of truth to it, of course – Jason had nowhere to be – but, to give credence to his lie, he has a half dozen cases lined up at any given moment for just this sort of thing. You never know when you might need to disappear from the Bat radar. Undercover work provides a convenient excuse.

So convenient that not for the first time Jason considers vanishing into deep cover for a while. A couple of months at the very least, just to get himself out of Gotham and gain perspective. It's not like him to turn his back on everything he trained for.

This thing with Dick is getting more complicated than he ever could have anticipated, and it's been a mess from day one. Whatever even constitutes day one, because the development was fluent and impossible to pinpoint. One day Jason was scrubbing Dick's kitchen floor as innocently as you please, the next he was scrubbing Dick's body in the bathtub and Dick was coming all over Jason's face as thanks.

Dick has since apologized for acting the way he had, but really: if Jason had not wanted to be treated the way Dick had treated him, he would have told Dick to politely fuck off to hell. But he hadn't. In a way, he had been treated _to _something he never thought would be in store for him. Least of all from Dick.

And now he's bones-deep in it.

If he backed out now, it would be like cutting off something vital, like his oxygen supply. It's as if Jason's can't breathe if he goes too long without it.

It.

That formless thing without a name.

The thing they're not examining too closely because looking at it directly would be like staring at the sun: bad for your eyes. Or else, your sanity. Instead of losing your eyesight to a giant ball of flame in the sky, you'd be questioning yourself. Specifically why you ever agreed to play along in such a giant pile of bullshit and make-believe that's haphazardly taped together by a generous amount of denial and delusion.

It's better that way. If you don't want a good thing to implode on you, you don't fucking touch it. And if you don't want to think about a thing too closely, you keep it safely out of sight. (There, totally not a recipe for disaster.) He doesn't want to mistake a speck in his vision for a sunspot that's not there. Or something. He needs to work on his metaphors.

Fact is, the latest development had Jason pack up and flee the country for a week.

It's funny how three simple words can do that to a person. Especially if those words came from Dick Grayson.

Not that Dick has never expressed the sentiment to anyone else before. It's more that he would express it to Jason. They have an agreement, one that delineates the boundaries of their relationship and their roles within it, and Dick's words had seemed in violation of it. Except, how could they be when the boundaries are permeable and ever-shifting?

They had taken Jason by surprise, is all, and he needed a moment. Or a couple of days.

But now he's back in Dick's apartment, with a new apron to shield him from all the filth that has accumulated since he's been gone. Seriously, it's not even been a full week and already the place looks like a pigsty. Worn clothes and takeout containers everywhere. Dick has gotten better about picking up after himself, but only to an extent.

"If I did your job for you, you couldn't pretend it's not the sex you come here for," Dick once said, biting at the neck strap. He was untying the knot at the small of Jason's back like he had all the time in the world, pulling the strings out to their full length and Jason felt himself unravel as the loops grew smaller. Finally, the apron fell open and away from his body.

Dick slid his hand around to cup Jason through his pants. Jason was unmistakably (yet unsurprisingly) hard. 

"Is doing the dishes like foreplay to you, or is it the anticipation that gets you this way?" Dick rubbed his own hard length against Jason's ass as he freed his cock equally as leisurely and pushed his pants down to his thighs. 

The fabric of Dick's jeans was rough against his skin – still tender from their most recent impact play – but Jason said nothing, only gripped the edge of the counter with his yellow rubber gloves. There is never any telling whether Dick is going to tease him or use him – or both.

In the end, he made Jason come in his dish water. 

A shiver runs through Jason. Dick had a point, although Jason never likes admitting when he does. Dick only ever picks up after himself to please Jason and show him what a good and helpful husband he can be. If he leaves his underwear strewn about, it's probably because he's punishing Jason for staying away so long, because if Jason had been around to clean, nothing would have had the chance to pile up. It's definitely the kind of pettiness he would expect from Dick.

In a way, Jason is glad for the distraction. Tidying up Dick's apartment is familiar. It's what he's good at. The more time he spends doing it, the more he begins feeling like himself again, like there's a place for him outside of his inherited crusade against injustice.

And isn't that in itself kinda spooky?

Jason, who has trained so hard to please someone who never really saw him, who trained even harder to mold himself into the weapon that someone never wanted him to be – that same Jason feels comfortably settled as someone's goddamn wife.

Worst of all, as Dick's wife. The very guy Jason could never live up to. Who's better at everything he does. Whom he's both resented and hero-worshipped for those very facts.

(Well, at the very least Dick is not better at cleaning up after himself, that much is certain.)

It's all just fucked up. But what else is new?

_The image of Dick lying on his back, in nothing but an unbuttoned shirt that showed more than it hid, sweating and exhausted but glowing from his recent orgasm, and so inviting when he'd asked, "Wanna fuck me?" like there was nothing more he wanted._

Jason's cock twitches whenever he so much as thinks about it, because boy, does he ever. He's spent years of his life furiously jerking off (emphasis on furious) to the idea of making Dick take his cock like the fucking slut he is. Until he realized that – surprise! – he's been the slut who wanted to be made to take it all along.

And so he didn't take Dick up on the offer.

How could he? Their arrangement centers around him being Dick's sweet, submissive wife. He doesn't want to rattle that. Because Dick has been _good _to him. The fucking _best. _And Jason is not ready to give that up yet.

At the same time, he can't help but wonder if Dick is growing bored with Jason's needy bottom ass. If asking Jason to fuck him was his way of curing that boredom.

If he's thinking of ditching Jason and the arrangement they have for someone who can take care of _him _for a change.

Jason is conflicted.

He already sees this whole thing come crashing down if they attempt to alter their dynamic. Jason's role doesn't allow for much assertiveness, after all. They _could _create new roles for the purpose, sure, but Jason doesn't know how to be anything _other _than Dick's darling wife.

And yet, when Dick asks you to fuck him, you don't hesitate. You don't make him wait. And you certainly don't stop to wonder about the implications.

Jason _wants _to give Dick whatever he asks for. Whatever is necessary to keep him interested in playing along for just a while longer.

He's the Red fucking Hood, scourge of the underworld, who makes hardened criminals shit their pants if they so much as catch a glimpse of him. He's not getting his panties in a twist because he's worried a little role reversal is going to upset the careful balance they have worked so hard to establish. That would be ridiculous.

(Except, that's exactly what he's worried about.)

Jason lets out his annoyance – at himself, mostly – on Dick's place by giving it a thorough wipedown. It passes the time. When Dick is still not back from patrol, Jason moves on to preparing sandwiches and finger food from the ingredients he bought.

He's in the middle of cutting the sandwiches into neat triangles when Dick suddenly appears in the kitchen door in full Nightwing gear.

"Jason?" he asks needlessly, because who else is going to use his kitchen at two in the fucking morning?

Jason has no time to point it out, because the next thing he knows one hundred and seventy-five pounds of tight muscle are barreling into him. (Fuck, he's missed that feeling.) The force knocks Jason's bread knife from his hand. It clatters to the freshly swept floor, spraying crumbs and hummus all over it. 

He might have complained about it. You know, if Dick hadn't immediately wrapped his arms around Jason and smooshed their faces together. Who wants to complain when Dick goes and does _that?_

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Dick says between kisses, the pads of his gloves scrubbing against Jason's cheeks and into his hair.

Jason can hardly piece the words together over the sound of Dick's needy moans. They make it easy to imagine Dick on the bed in the next-door apartment, naked and spent and so pliable beneath Jason it was impossible to look away.

"At the same time it felt like forever." Dick is warm, even through the Nomex, and the enthusiastic welcome robs Jason of his breath. As do Dick's hands squeezing his ass. "I've missed this."

"It's only been five days, you horny fuck," Jason remarks.

"Exactly," Dick says, his smile utterly sinful as he peels off his domino. "That's five long days of me not getting to fuck you into the mattress like you deserve, my pretty wife. Or any other surface for that matter. Don't you find that just cruel? I have a lot of catching up to do and time is awasting."

Dick's tongue dips back into Jason's mouth and his gloves land next to them on the counter. Jason swallows thickly around the words he's no longer really sure he wants to say. Handing the reins over to Dick and let him make good on his promise sounds like a fantastic idea. (It's also safe. It's what he knows. You don't fuck up a good thing unless you have to.)

"Besides, you owe me," Dick continues as he hooks his fingers into Jason's waistband, tracing it to the button in the front. Jason's skin tingles. "Turn around."

"Oh, I _owe _you now?" Jason crosses his arms.

"Yeah, you think I wasn't worried when you suddenly disappeared without a word?" Dick all but rips Jason's fly open.

"I left a message." Jason stands his ground.

"A _text _message that could have been sent by anyone who wanted to make your disappearance seem legitimate."

"And how would a random person have known to contact _you _of all people?"

Dick's mouth clicks shut, no doubt processing how he could have missed that. "Turn around," he says again, voice suddenly gone dark, as he yanks Jason's pants down, trapping his cock in his boxer briefs.

Jason is not gonna have this. "How about you turn around for a change?" he asks, using his height to loom over Dick. 

Dick's intensity drops. "What?"

"I mean, listen to you. You're hopeless without me. Not only can you not pick up after yourself, you can't even seem to think straight when I'm not around. Have you been pining away that much it's affecting your brain?"

Jason pokes Dick's forehead and Dick takes a step back, blinking up at him. "Are you being... a catty wife?" 

"Am I a what now?" Ah, shit, there goes the mood. Jason blew it.

"Your new apron. Is this because of it?" Dick asks and laughs breezily, fingers running down Jason's arm, then the hem of the fabric. He's holding it out like a banner between them and Jason notices the lack of a wedding ring. He wasn't prepared for the pang of disappointment that brings. "What's this one about? Perhaps you should have led with that."

Oh, right. Jason totally forgot he hasn't even taken the time to really look at his newest apron yet. It's beige with an olive border and a cat printed on the bib, one claw raised, poised as if to strike. If he were Dick, he'd probably be confused about what to make of that as well. As it is, he wonders if it has some Freudian significance that prompted him to snatch it.

Dick's gaze is curious and bordering on hungry again, as if he's expecting Jason to divulge some secret new kink for them to try out, and... Jason falters.

It's not that he thinks he can't do it. It's more that the moment's not right. Dick is not exhausted from his day job that dragged on for too long. Now he is freshly back from patrol, one that has not exerted him in the least. Dick is positively _buzzing _with the excess of energy, which usually means he's ready to use it to make Jason squirm in the most creative ways.

And Jason... he wants that, too. Fuck.

It's one thing to take the reins from Dick when he is offering them, and quite another to wrestle them out of his grasp. Jason is too jet lagged from his South America short trip to butt heads with him.

He's also too jet lagged to be quick on his feet. Add to that the tangle his head is in because of Dick and he can't think of something suitably weird he'd want to try that would warrant an apron unto itself.

Instead of calling attention to his blunder and making Dick even more curious in the process, as he's doing.

"Oh, this? Uh. It doesn't actually mean anything. I just grabbed it because I wanted to clean in peace. Knowing this place would need it after I've been gone so long."

"Mh-hmm," Dick hums, nosing along Jason's neck and brushing the apron aside so he can shove his hand beneath Jason's waistband. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm not buying that."

"There's nothing _to _buy," Jason says and bites his lip. Dick's fingers curl around his cock and pump it nice and slow.

"You don't have to be shy, my sweet wife," Dick says in a voice that makes Jason want to drop to his knees and beg Dick to fuck his mouth. Which, well, is not what he'd been going for when he came here. "You know I want to make all your naughty dreams come true."

"I'll tell you some other time," Jason's incontinent mouth says, admitting that there is something, he's just not telling what it is.

"Are you making me guess?" Dick grins wickedly and that's never a good sign. Not for Jason's hold on his sanity, anyway. "Is that part of the game?"

Jason's hips rock against Dick's hand. It's squeezing him so deliciously, thumb dipped into the slit and smearing precome around in ever widening circles. Jason grips the counter behind him. He shakes his head, takes a deep, calming breath, and holds Dick's gaze. "No, man. I mean it. Mood's all wrong for that." Halfway through, he loses it. _"Fuck."_

"You know you're just making me more curious by not telling me." 

Jason huffs out a breath. "That's _your _problem."

Dick hums thoughtfully as he sinks to his knees and brushes Jason's apron aside to expose his cock. "You're making me want to punish you because you're being an obstinate wifey."

Jason, going cross-eyed from Dick's attentions, is no longer sure if that wasn't the plan all along. "What makes you think that's not what I want?"

"Maybe because you just said the mood's wrong," Dick says, crooking the tip of his finger into the slit, this time keeping it there and pulling Jason's cock down toward his face.

"Mood's never wrong for you to show your wife her place," Jason rumbles, trembling and needy.

"In that case," Dick says and kisses Jason's cock. "Your punishment will be to tell me what I want to know." Without further ado, Dick smiles pleasantly, tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, and takes Jason's cock into his mouth. 

"Ohh fuck," Jason moans, "I ran right into that, didn't I?"

"Mmh-hmm," Dick hums around his length, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout Jason's body.

"Okay, okay," he gasps, fists tightly clutching the counter. "Remember last time when you'd just... rubbed yourself against my chest?"

Dick pulls off with a pop just to ask "When I fucked those beautiful tits of yours?" and sucks Jason down again. 

Jason wants to roll his eyes at Dick's insistence of using the word 'tits,' but instead, he yelps in surprise. Dick just impaled his throat on Jason's length at the same time as he impaled Jason on his fingers.

When Dick pulls off again, he runs his tongue from root to tip. "How could I forget? I fall asleep to the memory every night." 

"You asked me—" Jason has to stifle a moan. "Fuck, I can't do this."

Dick raises an eyebrow at him and curls his fingers deeper into Jason. He seems so relaxed even with a cock of Jason's girth lodged in his throat that if it weren't for the rosy glow on his cheeks, you wouldn't know he's doing anything strenuous at all.

He looks good like this – pleased, like he's already had his way with Jason. Like Jason could now have his way with him. 

Jason takes a breath and grasps Dick's wrist. There's no dignified way to talk about this – or anything, really – with someone's fingers in your ass. His other hand he rests against the back of Dick's neck, applying just enough pressure to signal Dick to stay this way.

"You asked me to fuck you."

Dick's throat clenches around Jason's cock as he chokes. It's sudden and violent, and it startles Jason, who had not expected that sort of reaction. Dick pushes off, coughing, and steadies him with a hand at Jason's naked hip.

Well, golly gee, that went great. "You all right there?" he asks, rubbing Dick's shoulder and patting it gently. He doesn't want to send him down another coughing fit.

"Yeah, fine," Dick says, but his voice is strained and it takes him another few moments to calm down.

"A simple 'I take it back' would've sufficed, you know?" Jason continues patting Dick's back, overcome by a sinking feeling. "Didn't have to—"

"No way," Dick cuts him off. "I didn't say I want to take it back."

"So you want us to...?" He gestures with outstretched index fingers, alternating in whose direction they point.

"You mean now?"

Dick sounds as perplexed as Jason feels – his erection has been flagging, spit cooling on its length, and the prospect of getting some action doesn't exactly make it jump back up. The urge to just slip out and disappear into the night, hoping some interdimensional hole would open up and swallow him, is greater.

Jason sags against the counter.

"We don't have to do it now if you're not up for it," he says, stroking over Dick's hair. "I can just go. This whole idea was stupid to begin with."

Dick, whose eyes have been drifting shut, leaps to his feet. "You're not going anywhere tonight. I don't care if we watch _Wheel of Fortune _together or if I have to tie you up or both, you're staying."

Jason cracks a smile that shows off his teeth. "You'll definitely have to tie me up if you want us to watch _Wheel of Fortune _together."

"Let me get the ropes, then."

Dick leans into Jason, close enough to kiss if he weren't grinning so wide, and his warm hand wraps around Jason's shivering prick. His other hand sneaks a sandwich off the tray next to them as he coaxes Jason back to hardness. Okay, maybe... maybe he doesn't have to leave yet.

When Jason is halfway there again, aided by Dick's moaned praises about how good the sandwiches are, Dick stuffs the last bite into his mouth and turns away, tugging Jason after him by his cock.

Jason is stunned into silence by this move. He wasn't prepared for it and has to pull up his pants quickly so he won't stumble over them. He's not sure if he's embarrassed, aroused, or offended by it. Or all of the above.

"The fuck are you doing?" he asks once he can get his mouth back in working order. 

Dick flashes him a sunny smile over his shoulder and licks the last crumbs off his fingers. "I need a shower. And since I don't trust you not to disappear on me while I'm in there, I figured why waste time? You can get me ready while I get clean. Win-win all around."

"Fuck," Jason breathes. His heart is thudding loudly, spreading wave after wave of heat through him. His mouth is dry. 

Dick really wants to do it with him.

"You can let go now, by the way," Jason says, still awkwardly waddling after Dick. Well, if that doesn't get him in the mood. "I'm not going to run anywhere."

"I know you're not," Dick says and yanks him into the bathroom by his elbow.

His back hits the bathroom door as Dick shoves him against it, and if he had anything smart to say it's gone now, because that's just the kind of effect Dick has on him. He steals Jason's breath, his wits, and with them, the ability to talk himself out of situations like this. That would be like him, a quip, a grin, and a hasta la vista -- but Dick has even made off with his resolve never to be at a disadvantage again.

With Dick, he can't be anything but at a disadvantage, but it doesn't bother him so much anymore. That is, if he knows what the rules of the game are.

This. This is new.

This may still be Dick kissing him as his fingers skirt along the strings of his apron to undo the knot at his lower back, but this is also Dick throwing the apron into the laundry hamper as if casting aside the safety that it represents.

The safety of knowing what his place is.

It's easier when Dick directs him. When he motions him to kneel and to suck him off. (No words necessary.) When he orders him to take his cock even when he's barely ready for it. Or worse yet, when he has Jason simply sit on his lap and listen to the horrifyingly sweet things he says to him then.

Sometimes, Jason wants to break and agree to whatever sordid orgy or gangbang Dick has been dreaming up lately, so long as it's degrading. He can use him as a public trash can for all Jason cares. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to Dick coo sweet nothings at him.

Jason doesn't even have anyone to blame but himself for that one. He'd picked up the pink apron as a joke and as a challenge, because Dick liked being mean. Surely he wouldn't be able to pretend that he liked having Jason around as his wife after he'd been trying to get him to stop cleaning his damn apartment for weeks. Of course Jason ended up shooting himself in the foot with that. Instead of being able to gloat in the face of Dick's defeat, he cringed and writhed in agony as Dick came up with ever sweeter nicknames and ways to prove that he really does cherish his wife.

It was too much. In the end, Dick managed to twist the challenge against him. Jason should have known he would be skating on thin ice, that it would be all too easy for Dick to be mean by being sweet and thus come out on top again.

And yet, even that was easy. Or easier.

Why it would be easier than fingering Dick in the shower is anyone's guess. It's not even the first time Jason's done so. Dick likes the extra bit of stimulation when his cock is lodged in Jason's throat. But like this – two fingers in with the intent of getting him loose enough to take Jason – pressed against his slippery back and kissing his shoulder, his neck, his hair, like a worshipful fool, Jason is on edge.

Like he's not up to the task. And he's most definitely _up _for it. How could he not be when Dick is moaning for him, contracting around him, and pushing back, forcing Jason's fingers deeper? His cock is throbbing as if it were already buried inside Dick's hot body. Has been ever since he's run his hands over Dick's soaped-up chest, the inside of his thighs, up his erect length.

Dick turns off the spray and braces both hands against the shower wall. His breathing is louder now in the ensuing silence that is broken only by the water dripping off their bodies.

"Okay, I feel a lot cleaner now," Dick says, nudging his head back against Jason, "we can move this along to the bedroom."

"So you don't want to re-enact our latest red apron night," Jason jokes, "since you loved that one so much."

Dick looks down at the tub they're standing in. "I guess I could ride you while I hold your head underwater, but it might be difficult, logistically. 'sides, I thought you wanted to do the work for a change."

"For a change?" Jason shoves Dick so he nearly falls over the rim of the tub. "I do _all _the work around here and you dare suggest that I don't?"

"To be fair, honey," Dick says laughing, feet planted securely on the bath mat, "if it's about sex, all you have to do is take it."

With the hand he just offered Jason to steady himself as he steps out of the tub, Dick tugs him close, wet skin slipping against wet skin.

"And you do it so well, sweetheart."

Dick hooks his elbow around the back of Jason's neck to snare him in for a kiss. Jason, sucker that he is, lets it happen. But only up to a point. He enjoys that tiny bit of advantage his height gives him over Grayson, making him raise himself on tiptoe to bridge the last inch if he wants to capture Jason's mouth with his own. And he does. Fervently so. Kissing Dick is never not an experience.

If Jason weren't already hard, he would be now.

He grabs a towel from the open cabinet without breaking the kiss and begins rubbing Dick's hair dry. Dick laughs at that maneuver but is himself unwilling to stop making out with Jason. He's all but hanging from the arm he has slung around Jason's neck, just to force Jason into stoop low enough for Dick to place his heels back on the floor.

Jason helps him out. Dick yelps in surprise as Jason nearly bends him double. On instinct, Dick's knee hooks over Jason's hip. Now Dick is justified in letting his weight hang off of Jason. He would fall on his back if he didn't.

"If you bend me any lower," Dick says in a husky voice that's definitely tinged with arousal, "I'll have no choice but to use you as a jungle gym."

"You also have the choice of falling flat on your ass," Jason points out.

"I was rather hoping you'd give my ass a pounding yourself instead of leaving that to the bathroom floor."

"Fuck," Jason breathes and straightens them both up again.

"That's the idea," Dick says and pats Jason's cheek. "Come on, let's get comfy."

To think that Dick is now the one urging them on. Sure, Dick always likes to direct him, but he didn't seem so eager to roll over for Jason before. Now he's climbing onto the bed and presenting his naked backside like the shameless creature that he is.

"How do you want it?" Dick asks, fucking _wiggling _his ass.

"I'm tempted to say just like you are now, on all fours." Jason follows him onto the bed, places a hand on one of Dick's pretty cheeks and caresses it. "Maybe with your head on the pillow and your ass up high."

Dick exhales what Jason supposes was meant to be a laugh. "Just like I love you most. That way, I get to watch you take my cock, how it disappears inside you. It's such a good sight."

Heat flares up in Jason's cheeks. He hates it when Dick does that. When he makes Jason lose his cool by saying things like that.

"I'm just kidding," Dick says and rolls onto his back. "I love fucking you every which way, but I guess my favorite is when I get to watch you."

"So... you wanna watch me now?"

"Watch you make your cock disappear inside me?" Dick's smile is sweet, but he can't suppress the hint of devilishness in it. "Fuck yeah, I want that."

"Good thing that that's settled then," Jason says drily and leans over to the bedside table to get the lube. Anything so Dick wouldn't see the ungodly blush on his face.

Because fuck, he is marvelous. Reclining on a pillow like a Grecian god. Beautiful like Ganymede with his kissable lips and the amazing cut of his cheekbones. What gets to Jason most is how casually Dick touches himself, how his legs are spread invitingly, how interested Dick seems to be.

In all of his fantasies, Jason was always the bad guy who had to force himself on Dick one way or another. Dick never consented, even if he ended up liking what Jason did to him. It was simply inconceivable that Dick could want Jason in any way.

And now here Dick is, knowing full well what he agreed to and... not bringing up a flimsy excuse to back out, after all? Not sneering at Jason because he's disgusted by him? Not laughing at him because, _'what, you seriously thought I would let you fuck me? Keep dreaming, you pathetic fool.'_

Jason is warming up a dollop of lube when Dick sits up. A pit opens up in his stomach and he knows this is the point where Dick announces he's changed his mind. Dick grasps the back of Jason's neck, but instead of telling him to fuck off or to shove him face-first into the mattress because, _'you've had your taste of role reversal now, my pretty wife, it's time for you to be shown your place again'_ – instead, Dick kisses the crease between Jason's eyebrows until Jason relaxes.

"Your face was doing that funny thing where you looked constipated and worried, like when you're overthinking things."

"I did not look—"

Dick shushes him with a finger to his lips. "I want this, Jason. I want you. Now tell your brain to shut up, and fuck me."

Dick replaces his finger with his mouth and pulls Jason with him as he rolls back down. Jason follows as if their lips were glued together. He shifts his knees for balance, looming over Dick like a shadow. Dick takes one of his hands and guides it between his thighs. It slides between Dick's cheeks, slicking up his hole. It clenches every time his slippery fingers rub over it and Dick's breath is getting hot against his mouth the more pressure he applies.

Dick moans into the kiss when Jason slips a fingertip inside. It goes easily even as Dick's ass contracts around it, unlike before under the shower. Jason had worked Dick open enough to take two fingers, so that's what Jason gives him again.

"Fuck, I forgot how nice this feels."

With his other hand Jason grasps Dick's cock, to take his mind off the intrusion. Dick lets his legs fall open wider, giving Jason more access to push his fingers deeper. It's not just nice, it's amazing. Dick is so hot and smooth inside, and the sight of him letting Jason do what he wants is mesmerizing. His eyelids flutter, alternating between drifting shut and opening wide when Dick's eyes roll back. His lips are parted and glistening, begging to be sucked – or have something to suck at – but the thing that sells it is the cute blush that stains Dick's skin. Jason's cock is twitching eagerly.

"You look so hot like this," Dick says and Jason starts from his reverie.

"It's like you read my mind."

"Why, did you also just think how hot you look?"

"No, I was thinking how hot _you _look—you know what, it doesn't matter. Ready for another one?"

"Yes, _please."_

Jason has to positively wrench his eyes away from Dick's smoldering gaze to find the lube bottle that's lying on the bed next to him. He picks it up and squeezes some amount onto Dick's twitching hole. Dick sucks in a breath, but says nothing. Jason has no quip ready himself. All he can do is work the lube into Dick and add another finger.

Dick tenses around him. "Oh-ho, fuck, I'm so rusty."

"Need a moment?"

"No. No, I'm good. Keep going."

Dick doesn't exactly appear good as Jason continues to finger him open. Jason has never seen him so squirmy before – well, except that time he got shot in the shoulder and developed a fever and couldn't find a comfortable enough position to settle and be still for a minute. Dick is now lifting his hips up, alternating which hand grips the pillow and which tugs at his cock, now rubbing his shins up and down Jason's body.

The next time one of his ankles rests on his shoulder, Jason leans over Dick to trap his knee against his chest. Jason just loves how easily Dick folds like a jackknife. 

"I've always wanted to do this, you know?"

"Really?" Dick gasps and Jason can't tell whether he's surprised or not. "Since when?"

"Since you first snapped at me because I was the new Robin."

"I didn't snap at you."

"You totally did. You were jealous I was taking Robin away from you."

"It was more complicated than that," Dick mumbles and looks at Jason askance through his bangs. "So you've been thinking about bending me double since you were, what, thirteen?"

"I was fifteen. You remember being fifteen, right?"

"I remember you were a snotty brat."

"Snotty or not, you would have loved it. You would have been screaming my name by the end of the night."

"I suppose I would have at that. I would have been shrieking in laughter. 'No, Jason, stop. My sides are splitting, I'm bursting, sto—' _oh my God."_

"You were saying?" Jason teases smugly. There's almost nothing better than killing Grayson's laughter when he's laughing at your expense.

"I was saying, 'Oh my God, Jason, stop that.' I mean it. Stop milking me."

Dick whines and tries to squirm away, but he's trapped beneath Jason's weight. Not even his feeble attempts at pushing Jason away have any effect. His fingers are like bands of iron around Jason's wrist, but Jason continues rubbing Dick's prostate as though Dick was loving it.

"Please, Jason. I'm sorry, okay? It would have been great. I would have been screaming your name from the rooftops. That what you want to hear? Fuck, Jason, please. Give me your cock. Prove to me how good you can make it."

"Wow," Jason says, impressed with Dick's vehemence, "since you ask so nicely."

Dick visibly deflates as soon as Jason pulls out his fingers. His legs drop to the mattress and he takes in some deep, shaky breaths, while shielding his eyes with a forearm slung across his face. For a brief moment, Jason wonders if he was too much, but he trusts Dick to tell him in no uncertain terms when he was.

Dick probably wouldn't ask him to get the show on the road if Jason had ruined the mood.

Jason takes a breath and then fishes out a condom from the bedside drawer. His slippery fingers fumble with the foil and he wonders when was the last time he even had to bother with one. Dick pretty much fucked him raw the first time Jason let him and hasn't switched gears since then. If he uses them, it's only to be disgusting. Or, you know, _more _disgusting than he already is.

It's a tight fit – Jason only remembers while trying to roll it on that they're all Dick's size, and Dick's cock is slimmer than Jason's. Whatever, this is probably just a one-time deal. Jason can handle it this once. He's used to discomfort. It might even keep him from coming too early.

Concentrating on his breathing, Jason slicks up his sheathed cock. He applies the excess lube to Dick's ass and drags him into his lap. Dick's head slides off the pillow and he lifts his forehead from his eyes. They're twinkling up at Jason.

"You ready?" Jason asks, heart thudding faster as he rubs the tip of his cock over Dick's hole. "Last chance to back out."

Dick smiles, crosses his ankles just below the swell of Jason's ass, and pulls him in. The smile fades as soon as Jason breaches him, and his eyes go wide. 

"Oh fuck, I underestimated... how different this would be from a couple of fingers." He clutches Jason's elbows. "And overestimated how much I could take."

"Should I pull out?" Jason is just about to when Dick clutches at him harder.

"No, this is good.."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just go slow."

Easier said than done, because even with just the tip inside, Jason is—he can't even describe what he is. He's dreamed about fucking Dick so often as a kid, and it's even better than he ever could have imagined.

"Fuck, I'm so rusty," Dick says, trying to stop clenching so hard around Jason. It's not working. "This is embarrassing. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd need more prep. So when you said let's do this, I assumed you were ready."

"So did I." Dick huffs a laugh, then grimaces. "Okay, bad idea." Dick lifts his gaze back up to the ceiling and breathes. "I'm being such a baby, aren't I?"

_You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, and getting to experience this with you is both a privilege and an honor._ "A smidgen, yeah. You're acting like a virgin."

"To be fair, you're a lot to take." Jason stills every time Dick's fingers grip his elbow tightly, and rocks forward again when Dick relaxes and nods. "And it's been quite a while since I, uh, had _practice _in this."

Jason doesn't want to know, but his mouth is running on its own. Already the dark seeds of jealousy are growing and taking root. "Oh, and when was that?"

Dick squints up at the ceiling, thinking. "Before Kori and I went our separate ways. I hooked up with Roy several times after that, but it was never anything serious."

"Hold up. Kori? How did—does she—I mean—?"

Dick smirks. "That's between me and her." He nudges Jason with his heels again. "Come on, give it another push."

"Sure I shouldn't just pull out and prepare you some more?"

"Honey, the last thing I want you to do is pull out. I want to feel you."

"Suit yourself." He grabs Dick's hips to steady them as he finds the right angle to push in deeper. "One push, coming up."

Jason is seeing stars. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to Dick. Jason did have the pleasure of Dick's blowjobs, which are an event unto themselves, but while they're hot enough to burn Jason, they're also soft and wet and could not have prepared Jason for the tight grip of his body. He's scorchingly hot and so tight Jason doesn't think he's ever going to be able to move inside him. 

"Oh shit, that's so deep," Dick groans.

"Already? I'm not even all the way inside."

"You're... not?" Dick asks feebly and stops running his shins up and down Jason's flanks. In fact, he lets them drop and splays open his knees as if he no longer had the energy to hold them up. He winces as he does so.

"You okay?"

"I—yeah, just give me a second. Stay like this." Dick is clutching at Jason's shoulder now, at the back of his neck, and he's panting shallowly and open-mouthed. 

The hot puffs send shivers running down Jason's body, but he tries to keep himself still. He places his hand on top of Dick's where it's lying uselessly curled around his twitching erection. Dick breathes out a high-pitched moan as Jason starts moving their hands.

Maybe Jason miscalculated the whole deal. Dick doesn't seem as enthusiastic about it anymore. What if Jason is hurting him and Dick just won't say? This has been a stupid idea from the start. Jason is not making Dick feel good by doing this.

"Phew, okay, that's better," Dick says, more relaxed than before, and kisses him. "You can go ahead now."

"Um." Hot dread spreads out over Jason's skin. Dread and shame.

"What's the matter?"

"I lost it."

"Lost what?"

"I—um." His voice is wavering. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

Jason scoots back on his heels, shocked. His limp cock slides right out of Dick and the condom. He's stammering now. He hasn't felt this betrayed by his own body since he started out his Bat training and was unable to finish the high kick exercises because his muscles kept cramping up by the end.

Then he hears it. Laughter. Bubbling up from Dick's chest. Dick has his hands over his mouth to keep it in, but his body is shaking with it.

Dick has done a lot of cruel and demeaning things to him, but this takes the cake.

"Fuck you," Jason snarls, shoves at Dick's knees and storms into the bathroom. 

It's probably the wrong direction, since he's trapped there, but he's naked and can't just storm out of the apartment like this. But he needed to get away from Dick fast. Before he does something he might regret.

He splashes water onto his face to cool down. His entire body is trembling with shame. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This has never happened to him before. But of course it would have to happen when he and Dick—

The door crashes open. "Jason, fuck. I'm sorry."

"Fuck off."

"I didn't mean to laugh, I swear. It just came over me."

"I said fuck off. I don't want to see you now."

"Look, Jason. It doesn't matter, okay? We had fun, it didn't work out, water under the bridge. We can always try again some other time."

"What if I don't _want _to try again?"

"You're seriously going to let yourself be defeated by a minor setback? I thought you wanted this!"

"_You _wanted this! It was your idea! And who's to say this isn't just going to happen again?"

"Why was this _my _idea?"

"You asked me to fuck you last week."

"Jason," Dick says gently and reaches out his hand to take Jason's. "I wanted to make you feel good." He tugs Jason closer so he can wind his arms around his neck and rest his head against his shoulder. "But I knew I couldn't. So I offered you to use me to make yourself feel good. It seemed like a good compromise at the time."

"You were disappointed when I didn't take you up on it."

"Well, yeah." Dick chuckles and kisses Jason's throat. "I like it when you're close to me, like this—" Dick digs his fingers into Jason's naked skin. "I like to be able to touch you and hold you, feel your warmth, or listen to your even breathing when you're fast asleep."

"Like that's not creepy," Jason mutters but his heart is beating faster.

"I find comfort in knowing you're alive and safe for the moment, Jason."

"Did you practice all that? It sounded mighty corny."

"I'm trying to have a moment here," Dick says and punches him in the arm. "Now let's go to bed."

"You go," Jason says. "I'm packing up."

"Oh no, you're not. It's three in the morning and you're not going anywhere except to bed with me." Dick grabs Jason's wrist and begins tugging him out of the bathroom.

"Dick, I can't—"

"Don't 'Dick' me!"

"That's the problem. I didn't."

Dick snorts, then looks scandalized he did so. "I don't care, okay?" he says and shoves Jason onto the bed.

"But I didn't make you feel good, to borrow your wording."

"You want to make me feel good?" Dick asks and slips beneath the covers with Jason. "Stay. This is making me feel good." Dick wraps his arms around Jason's chest and squeezes. "So good."

Jason shakes his head. His thoughts are swirling; he doesn't know what to make of any of this. He's upset and angry, with himself mostly, but also with Dick. Fucking laugh at Jason, would he? Which he wouldn't have had the opportunity to if Jason had just fucked his brains out like he promised. So much for that... Well, isn't he just fucking useless? And still Dick wants him around.

"Thank you for staying, Jason." Dick rakes his blunt fingernails over Jason's chest and kisses his neck. Jason shivers.

"Fuck me," he says.

"What, now? I'm halfway to dreamland already."

"Please," Jason begs, and he hates how pathetic he sounds. But he has to do _something._ He can't just let the night end on this poor note. "I need you to use me."

Dick exhales. "You sure?" he asks and rubs Jason's arm soothingly.

"Yeah. Don't be gentle."

"Honey, if I'm going to use you, I decide how gentle I'll be."

Jason sucks in a breath. There it is, Dick's husband voice that never fails to make his knees go weak. Why did he ever think he needed anything else from Dick?

Dick twists around, presumably to hunt for the lube. The cap creaks and Dick doesn't bother warming it up, he just slathers it over Jason's hole before pushing two fingers in. Jason grunts.

"Aren't you a tight little wife?" Dick murmurs. "Didn't think you'd had to keep yourself open for me during your little trip, did you? Well, at least I know you haven't been fooling around with anyone else, my pretty thing."

Usually, Jason would have bristled at that last remark and it does aggravate the weird raw ache in his chest, but he's not prepared for Dick to stop. Especially not when the blunt tip of his cock rubs against his hole.

"Guess I can give you this as a reward."

Dick's cock stabs him like a knife in the gut, but it's good, it's exactly what he wanted. Jason groans. He's missed Dick using him like this. 

"Yes, show me how you're supposed to take it," Dick husks into his ear. "No prep and you still don't complain. I have a lot to learn from you."

Dick forces himself as deep as he can get with quick, relentless jabs that Jason adores because they ride the knife's edge between too much and just right. Jason is about to get hard himself when Dick just... stills. Kisses the back of Jason's head and settles in behind him, no longer appearing to be about to move.

"There, that's better."

"What?" Jason's head is reeling. "Are you—are you just going to leave it at that?"

"Yup," Dick says and pets him. "Just go to sleep, because this is all you're gonna get."

"I thought you wanted to use me."

"I _am _using you," Dick says. His hands are warm and solid on his hips as he keeps them in place. "And you're being an excellent cockwarmer, if I may say so."

Oh, Jason gets it. That way, Dick can cling to him like a starfish all night and if Jason tries to leave, he'll know right away. Kind of clever, in a way. Not that Jason is going to let himself be deterred from leaving before Dick has to get up for his day job.

Jason doesn't want to face him again after what just happened. Or didn't happen. He's never felt so pathetic in his life, and he did spend about a year of it as a walking vegetable. What kind of wife is he if he can't please his husband? Was he even still "wifey" - as Dick calls him - when he'd been trying to top Dick, or what was he?

His head is in too much of a disarray to let him rest. His thoughts are going around and around, until Dick rolls onto his back and his cock slips out of Jason.

Jason grasps the opportunity by the forelock and fucks out of there before Dick wakes.

But not before throwing the cat apron into the trash. (And cleaning up the kitchen, because Dick didn't give him the chance before.)

***

Something is off – Jason is sure of it the moment he slips into his safehouse – a moment _too late. _He should have noticed it just by _looking _at the latch instead of relying on muscle memory to tell him the give isn't right, but well. Jason is far from in his right mind tonight.

But just because Dick's laughter is still echoing in his ears, doesn't mean he can't fuck someone's shit up. He just doesn't have the nerve to deal with any old burglar. Although... If they managed to crack his security system without tripping the alarm, they're not going to be _any _old burglar. And he has even less nerves to deal with anyone who thinks they're hot shit, or else knows exactly whose digs they're breaking into. He can't think of many people capable of that, and that's another thing that irks him. There's Selina, but she has no business with him, especially not in Blüdhaven. No, it had to be someone local, or at least someone who could afford to spend the time to sniff out his hideouts.

Whoever it is, idiots need to be taught a lesson and that lesson is you don't mess with the Red Hood. Especially if he's in a bad mood. And tonight, he's in an exceptionally bad mood.

He lands silently, but alert, easing his gun out of its holster without so much as a whisper. If the intruder is still here, they might already be aware of Jason's presence but have chosen to fade into the background instead of facing him head-on. Lucky for Jason, because he would have been at a disadvantage with the second it took for his mind to catch up. A sudden attack would have blindsided him.

When no one strikes at him, he wonders if the intruder has already vanished again. And what they might have come here for to begin with, since it's not the kind of place you crash when you need shelter. Or anything else for that matter. All they'd find is an empty weapons locker, some weights, and a laptop that serves as a terminal connecting to his computer in Gotham. No matter that he finds himself staying in Blüdhaven more often than not these days. It _shouldn't _matter. But apparently, if you let organized crime networks think they're unsupervised for a week or two because you're off honeymooning with your spouse (oh God, does he really think of Dick this way?), they start getting ahead of themselves again. He makes a mental note to drop in for a little reminder.

He shoves those thoughts aside when his helmet picks up breathing that is not his own. So they hadn't left after all. Ballsy move. Or plain stupid, Jason can't decide. Either way, he's going to make them regret it.

Within one breath and the next he's pushing the intruder up against the nearest wall, twisting their arm behind their back and pressing a gun to their temple.

"Don't. Move. If you so much as twitch involuntarily, I'll blow your fucking head off," Jason says almost conversationally and twists the arm in his grip harder, earning him a groan.

"I'm not wearing the right apron for games like that, honey buns," the intruder pants.

"Dick?" Jason asks needlessly but none too kindly. Perhaps if he hadn't worn his helmet he might have been able to catch Dick's scent this close and wouldn't have assaulted him, but to be fair, Dick had done a moronic thing by coming here and disabling Jason's alarm systems. He should have known better than to surprise him. Jason clicks the safety back on without pulling the gun away. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Dick has never been to any of Jason's safe houses before nor expressed interest in them. In fact, Jason was under the impression he didn't know the location of any of them, but trust the Bats to disregard his need for privacy to satisfy their snooping tendencies.

"Is that any way to greet your wife?" Dick asks in return, a grin unmistakable in his voice.

The question takes Jason aback: it reminds him of the time Dick had (unwittingly, might he add) crossed a boundary with Jason and come to apologize. Jason had greeted him with a gun staring him in the face when Dick showed up at his place, carrying a bouquet of roses and... teddy bears of all things! "Is that any way to greet your husband-to-be?" Dick had asked as he put the little teddy bear wearing a shirt that said _'I love you beary, beary much' _onto the muzzle Jason was pointing straight at him. The bouquet has since withered and dried, but the bears still sit on a shelf in Jason's apartment back in Gotham.

"Wife?" he growls, as dumbfounded as he did back then but a lot more volatile. He is quietly seething.

He hadn't wanted to see any more of Dick tonight than he already had and doesn't know why he hadn't just fucked right back to Gotham to ensure he wouldn't. There is nothing (else) for him here.

"You're acting surprised all of a sudden," Dick says, grinding back against the front of Jason's trousers. "Was this not what you were thinking about earlier?"

He snakes his free hand around to grasp the back of Jason's helmet, careful not to press the trigger that would open it. His head rests on Jason's shoulder despite his twisted arm, and he moans like he was paid to do it, the little creep. He always knows how to put on a show for maximum effect and, well, the effect it has on Jason is unmistakable. Jason hadn't noticed how hard he is until Dick pressed against him. He releases Dick from his hold because he is powerless to stop himself from trailing his fingers up Dick's sides.

"No," Jason says, but it comes out more like a question than a statement. "Not quite."

Earlier was exactly what he wanted to avoid thinking about.

Even through his gloves he can tell there is loose fabric beneath his fingers but not beneath the heel of his palms and this observation burns low directly under his skin. There's too little padding for Dick to be wearing his Nightwing suit, so the obvious conclusion is that Dick must be naked in front of him. Naked and draping himself against Jason as though he's begging to be fucked.

"You're still pointing that thing at me," Dick observes and nudges Jason's gun arm with his elbow. His other hand curls dangerously into the fabric of Jason's trousers right at the junction of his thighs, where a little give was to be had. "If you're not gonna use it, why not put it away and make use of your hands some other way?"

Jason feels hot beneath his uniform. "Make use of them how?" Jason's hand trails over Dick's chest to his bare throat. If he weren't wearing his helmet still, he'd turn Dick's stupid face toward his own to kiss him.

"That's a good start. But I was thinking more along the lines of holding me open and taking me right up against the wall, like the good hubby I know you are."

"Ugh, fuck no." Jason makes an exasperated sound, shoves Grayson away from him, and holsters his gun. For all that Dick can turn Jason on with a mere suggestion in his voice, he can kill the mood just as quickly by using words Jason finds decidedly unsexy.

"No? Hoody then?" Dick asks innocently. He has turned around, pressing his shoulders back against the wall in a posture of ease, and that's when Jason sees it.

Not much light is filtering in through the window, but his helmet's night vision provides enough outlines to give him an idea. Jason stalks a few paces back to switch on the light and make sure.

"What the ever-loving _fuck _are you wearing?"

"You're not enjoying the view?"

Dick cants his hips, turns and poses like a model on a catwalk so Jason could admire him from all sides: the naked expanse of his backside that was broken only by an olive-colored string across his lower back, secured with a knot and a bow; his naked front covered by a beige apron with an olive border and a cat print on its bib, but unable to hide the erection bulging against the fabric; his long legs pale and stippled with goosebumps in the unheated space of Jason's safe house. Going by Dick's smirk, however, you'd never know that he's cold.

As soon as he's done twirling, he runs his fingers along the neck strap, but not self-consciously, as Jason would have done. Even this gesture had something deliberately coquettish about it. Because of course it would. Dick Grayson is sin incarnate and not even silly aprons can take away from his perfection.

It annoys Jason all the more.

Of all the aprons, he had to pick the cat one.

Does Dick have to rub all of Jason's failures in tonight? Time-out, Jason isn't even wearing blue. Dick is not allowed to embarrass or humiliate him. Never mind that it's something he always does, even without noticing. His whole being is a stark reminder of what Jason is not and him wearing the only apron Jason couldn't make work for them? That's a goddamn fucking punch in the face. If not the balls.

Except, it's giving his balls a distinctly different feel too, one not wholly unpleasant.

"You still haven't answered my question: what the fuck are you wearing?" What difference does it even make if Dick is wearing it? Isn't he in charge every night?

"Are you mad I took it?" Dick asks as he pads toward Jason on sure feet. "Mad I'm wearing it, sweet husband-of-mine?"

In a way, he is. He's mad about a whole host of other things too. Like the state of unholy arousal he finds himself in. Good thing he's still wearing his helmet so Dick can't see the bright flush that must be coloring his cheeks by now. He never thought he'd get off this hard on role reversal. Until now, he's been pretty blissful handing Dick the reins and hanging on for the ride. And, well, earlier was a disaster.

"I can take it off if you like," Dick says, reaching out. "I just want to pick up where we left off."

Jason stops Dick's hands from running over his chest armor. "Why? I thought me leaving was a pretty clear message."

"Because I didn't like the way we left things, okay? I wanted to say that it wasn't your fault. I guess I wasn't really into it in the beginning. You took me by surprise. But I never said I didn't want to." Dick rises on tiptoe and presses his cheek against the side of Jason's helmet. Its audio processors nearly fritz with the clarity of Dick's next statement. "Besides, I quite liked you on top of me. I didn't want to wait for you to grace me with your presence next – whenever that might be – and decided to come chasing you."

The back of Jason's knees hit the seat of a chair that's sitting under the conical beam of light that illumines the sparsely furnished room. The gaudy golden wedding ring Dick is wearing catches the light and Jason's attention. Dick usually keeps it in a velvet box inside his bedside drawer and only takes it out for play time. He must have stopped long enough to fetch it because he wasn't wearing it earlier. Jason sinks down hard.

The ring clicks against the side of Jason's helmet as Dick puts his hand there as though caressing his cheek and tips his head up. "Did it make you jealous when I mentioned Kori and Roy earlier? You get real cute when you're jealous."

"I'm not—" Dick puts his index finger onto Jason's helmet like that would physically shush Jason. Jason shuts up anyway.

"Of course you're not. You have no reason to be. I'm all yours, Hood." 

Dick places his hands on Jason's shoulders, sliding onto his lap and busying himself with Jason's fly. He's eager, Jason has to give him that. His cock is throbbing in its confinement. Dick abandons the fly for now and runs his hands up Jason's thighs instead, moving to unbuckle his holsters.

"But let's not dwell on the past," Dick says as they clatter to the floor. "I'm here for a do-over, so let's instead focus on what you can do to me right now." 

"What do you want me to do?" Jason asks breathlessly and swallows, looking up at Dick.

"Whatever you want."

Maybe Jason still hasn't comprehended the situation, maybe too much blood has been rushing away from his brain, or maybe he has to get Dick back for that "hubby" comment, but instead of jumping at Dick's offer, the first thing out of Jason's mouth is, "Think I could get you to clean in that outfit?"

Dick laughs. "Now?"

Truth be told, Jason doesn't really want to give up his spot as housewife – partly because he loves cleaning too much and partly because he doesn't trust Dick to make a good job of it – yet he can't deny that the image of Dick wearing nothing but an apron and a pair of yellow rubber gloves is highly appealing. He would be as effective as an actor in a porn movie, but then again, Dick's goal wouldn't be much higher than that if his own treatment of Jason during a scene is any indication. He rarely lets Jason finish cleaning before stepping in and if he does, he just makes such a big mess that Jason has to do it all over again later.

Dick brings Jason's attention back to him by sliding Jason's hands over his bare thighs. "Sure you wouldn't rather finger me again?"

Heat shoots through Jason, effectively shutting down any thought that is not about Dick right in front of him. Sweat runs down his face. He's gonna count himself lucky if he's not going to drown inside his own helmet.

"Leave it on," Dick says as Jason reaches back to take off his helmet. He slides his hands along the underside of Jason's helmet, fingertips brushing his neck, and. Kisses its visor. Dick actually kisses the front of Jason's helmet as if it were his face. Fuck, but that's... frustrating as hell. "Leave it on and take me like I'm your whore."

Jason chokes on his nervous laughter. Who is he to say no to that? "If you insist," he says, wrapping himself tightly in his Red Hood persona. There's no other way to make this work. If Dick wants to play, Jason is not going to leave him hanging. He might have appreciated a heads-up about the rules, however. "Will you do me the honor?"

Maybe Jason shouldn't have slipped the words "do me" into a sentence. His mouth is already dry before Dick's eyelids could so much as lower as he peers at the gloved hand Jason is holding up. (His right, so Dick wouldn't see the wedding band he never takes off, even when he does a cursory patrol of Blüdhaven to beat up some thugs because he felt like it.) Dick smiles and his tongue flicks out to moisten his lips. It might be unconscious but that doesn't make it look any less indecent. As if that hadn't been enough to make Jason's nerves go haywire, Dick curls his fingers around Jason's wrist, dipping two of them beneath the fabric of his glove, and applies his teeth to the cuff. He peels it over Jason's hand slowly, so that every nerve fiber has the pleasure of feeling stripped naked.

The air in his safehouse is cool against his newly exposed skin but it does as much as a drop in a hot bucket to mitigate the tropical temperatures he's boiling in beneath his armor. It's sticking to his skin like pasties and, funniest thing, Jason might as well be wearing nothing more for all that he feels exposed with his single hand bared. As if he were the one sitting naked on Dick's thighs with nothing but an apron to cover his modesty. (Not that Dick has any modesty to speak of but that's another matter.)

Jason actually feels more clothed in only an apron than he does now. He doesn't want to dwell too much on what that says about him. Maybe that he's comfortable in his role as wife. That even when he doesn't know exactly what Dick has planned, he only has to follow and trust that Dick will honor the color-coded apron system they have established.

This – this is different. This is Dick fooling around with him as the Red Hood... and Dick as Hood's wife? (If he'd actually talked to Jason instead of springing some twisted game on him out of nowhere, Jason would have told him that Hood is not the marrying type, thank you very much for ruining his lone wolf image. It's quite a long shot from Officer Grayson who gains social prestige by virtue of being married. But then again, Jason did spring the whole role reversal deal on Dick earlier, so it's not his place to complain.)

Butchering of his carefully crafted character aside, Jason's getup is part of what _makes _him the Red Hood. The weight and press of his armor against his skin, the smell of gun oil and Kevlar, the limited peripheral vision paired with the digital enhancement that his helmet provides, it all serves to center him in this persona even when he doesn't feel like it at all. Putting on the armor is like walling off that part of himself that would only be in the way of a successful criminal enterprise. To survive in the underworld, you can't show even a glimmer of weakness, and so Jason locks himself up tight.

So maybe he shouldn't have asked Dick to strip off his glove and thus, by extension, a sliver of his prized control. He could have remained impervious to all but Dick's words, but truth be told, he's as touch-starved as Dick is and couldn't handle _not _touching his heated skin – especially since he is already barred from kissing him, from running his mouth along his shoulders, from burying his face into his neck. Not all gestures you'd expect from unapproachable Red Hood, but Jason is made of softer material than he'd like to be.

Being the ever shameless tease that Dick is, he spits the glove aside and brushes his lips over Jason's knuckles as his fingers gently massage the heel of Jason's palm. Jason shudders when Dick drags the tip of his tongue over the side of his finger, dancing right on the edge of too much sensation.

Jason sees where this is going, so he fights down his blush and preempts Dick. "That's good. Now get them nice and wet."

He shoves his fingers into Dick's mouth without waiting for a reaction and meets no resistance at all, only hot breath and an even hotter tongue. It curls around the intrusion immediately and electricity zips right from his fingertips to the length of his cock. He is pulsing with heat and with arousal. Dick works his fingers over just like he would his cock, wrapping his lips around them and engulfing them in the soft but scorching cavern of his mouth, sucking, panting open-mouthed and running his tongue from root to tip. The only difference is that the lascivious gaze that usually graces his face when he goes down on Jason has a desperate quality to it, like he couldn't wait to have the real thing between his lips or his thighs.

"I think that's quite enough," Jason says as he pulls his slippery fingers from Dick's greedy mouth. Dick seems reluctant to let go; he grabs the back of Jason's head and makes out with his helmet. He actually makes out with Jason's helmet! As if pressing a kiss to it hadn't been enough. His breath fogs up Jason's vision and it should be a gross mood killer to have someone drag their tongue across your visor, but just in that moment, Dick scoots forward on Jason's lap, making him painfully aware of the pulsing erection trapped in his pants.

Jason wants that mouth on his own, wants to slip his tongue inside, wants to nip Dick's lips, to pull at them, and to bite the soft skin under his jaw.

All he can really do is use his hands to give his desire form, so this is what he does. He grabs Dick's ass and kneads the firm flesh almost reverently, because under no circumstances could he ever stop worshipping Dick's beautiful backside. He also takes hold of Dick's chin to keep his pretty face where he can best watch his expression change.

"Look at me," Jason says, ignoring the needling worry that Dick might burst out laughing any second, as soon as he notices that Jason is echoing his own words, and doing a poor job of it. Dick does nothing of the sort. His eyelids just flick open as he searches for a point on Jason's helmet to focus on.

Jason doesn't even like Dick's eyes on him under normal circumstances, but these are far from normal circumstances. There's no scrutiny of him involved, not this time. Dick's cheeks are flushed, his gaze vague. He's running his tongue against the inside of his mouth as though chasing what remains of Jason's taste; his hips roll gently against the front of his pants. All this tells Jason enough to know that he won't be tested tonight.

Digging his gloved hand harder into Dick's flesh, Jason rubs his slick fingers over Dick's waiting hole. They're so slippery that one of them slides right inside. Looks like Jason doesn't need to bother about going slow.

"You're pretty loose already," Jason says and slips another finger inside. Dick's body welcomes it just as easily as the first. "Have you been playing with yourself?"

"I couldn't stop thinking of your gorgeous cock rammed inside me while I was waiting, and I didn't want to waste another second once you got here."

"Fuck, do you ever listen to yourself?"

"I wanna ride you so bad," Dick continues, popping open the button of Jason's pants and pushing himself back against Jason's fingers.

Jason is curling them into Dick as far as they would go from this angle, sliding forward and back, picking up the pace until Dick is holding still again to receive Jason's thrusts. "This not enough for you?"

Freeing Jason's erection, Dick is rubbing the heads of their cocks together. Dick's is slippery with precome already. "Not after I've had a taste of the real thing."

Despite the haze clouding his eyes, Dick still manages to make his gaze pointed, staring straight at Jason as if his helmet were see-through.

Jason hisses as something cool hits the tip of his cock and dribbles down the length of it. Apparently, Dick's been hiding a bottle of lube in the pouch of his apron, because he's squeezing one as if decorating a bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup. His hand is cool and slick as it spreads the lube over Jason's erection and the urgency that might have been tampered it a bit by the initial shock of the cold, that urgency is right back with the delicious friction that Dick's hand creates.

Instead, Jason concentrates on the edge of his cup that's digging uncomfortably into the underside of his cock.

It has no effect, because the next moment, Dick scoots closer and Jason's fingers slip out as Dick sits up to position himself. Jason nearly sees stars when the tip of his cock brushes against Dick's hot skin. "Good?"

"Would you stop if I said no?"

"_Are _you saying no?" Dick asks, bracing himself on Jason's shoulder. His legs are beginning to tremble with the effort of keeping him there, hovering on the edge of penetration.

"No." Jason runs his hands up Dick's thighs.

"I'll take that as your go-ahead then."

"Go ahead," Jason says and pulls Dick down onto his hard length. He's definitely seeing stars now. Despite the ease with which Dick had accepted his fingers into his body, he's still so goddamn tight.

Dick doesn't seem to mind this time. "Fuck, yes, _Hood," _he cries out, head tipping backwards.

At any other time, Jason might have commended Dick for keeping with the codenames, but now there's no space left in his brain to evaluate anything that is not the mind-blowing feel of Dick's body around him. Jason rarely has the pleasure to appreciate Dick like this, unguarded and letting go, because usually their positions are reversed and he's giving himself over to everything that Dick makes him feel while ignoring his laser-focus attention on him.

Dick goes slowly at first, hips gliding up and down on the first inch of Jason's cock, taking more and more of Jason inside him with each downward movement, before he's picking up the pace as if trying to slam himself onto Jason's cock until it's all the way inside him. Already it's too much for Jason to handle. Dick's muscles are rippling around him with every twist, every breath, every twitch.

Dick winds an arm around Jason's shoulders and tilts his helmet up to meet him for a kiss again. It's a short one this time and Jason is transfixed by how Dick can just take his pleasure any which way he pleases.

"Fuck, this is so good," Dick breathes against his helmet. "You feel so good, honey. I'm sorry I wasn't ready for you earlier. Fucking take me. Let me make it up to you."

Dick's words spur him into action. Jason slings one arm around Dick's waist and his thighs groan when he gets up, lifting both their weights. With his free arm, he swipes all the blueprints and soldering equipment from the cheap wooden table that fills the tiny space before dropping Dick onto it just carefully enough so that it wouldn't break. Jason wouldn't stop now even if it had, but he imagines Dick wouldn't enjoy having splinters picked from his backside later.

"Shit, yes, yes," Dick pants, either because he's considerate of the late hour or because he's too overwhelmed to be louder, "fuck me, make me feel so good."

Jason doesn't need to be told twice. He grips Dick's hips and pistons into him, sometimes slowing down the pace for Dick to really feel his length glide inside him, then picking it up again so that their skin slaps obscenely against each other.

Dick is writhing and squirming and cursing, but he seems to be enjoying himself. He's holding onto the edge of the table as Jason pounds into him, his cock bouncing with every thrust. Jason touches with his gloved hand, gathers up some pre-come, and smears it around his length. Dick cries out when he gives it a few experimental tugs. They're not pained cries, so Jason keeps going and Dick contracts around him so tightly he knows he's not going to last much longer.

All of a sudden, Dick grows taut, eyes squeezed shut and every muscle quivering as his cock pulses in Jason's hand, shooting rope after rope of come over his apron. Jason jerks him through it, until his own orgasm approaches with the force of a freight train and he forgets all it in favor of gripping Dick's hips and fucking into them. Two seconds later he's whiting out and spilling himself inside Dick.

He stays like this for a while, with his twitching cock buried inside Dick, belatedly thinking that wow, they actually did it, and this time Jason stayed hard throughout. 

As they're catching their breath, Jason figures he can finally take off his hood. It doesn't necessarily make it better. The air inside the hideout is dry and dusty, but at least it's a change from the moist, filtered air inside his helmet.

"Hey there, handsome," Dick says, and starts laughing weakly.

"Something funny?" Jason asks.

"Nothing," more laughter, "just giggly and sensitive."

Dick pulls him down and kisses him.

"Sorry about... coming inside," Jason says sheepishly. "I wasn't thinking."

"Oh, huh," Dick says, his shoulders shaking. "I thought you might want to watch it slide down my thighs when you pull out. I don't mind."

"And you're back to being disgusting again."

"Some people happen to think it's hot."

"Is this your way of telling me your former lovers were a lot more fun than I am?" Jason asks and pulls out none too gently.

Dick winces, but it doesn't do much to affect his good humor. "Jealous again, are we? If it means anything, I can't think of anyone more fun than you are, Jason."

"You're pulling my leg," Jason says flatly as he produces a handkerchief and cleans off some of the mess before tucking himself away.

"I'm being serious here."

"And you're failing at it."

"Okay, but I mean it. I love having sex with you." Dick lifts himself up on his elbows. Jason helps him slip off the table and into his arms. "I honestly thought that was obvious. If you weren't so fun to be around, sweetheart, I wouldn't have married you."

Jason can only hope that his armored shirt is enough to shield Dick from his pounding heart. "You didn't want me around in the beginning. Said I was a pest and that I should go."

"I didn't call you a pest."

"It was implied."

"Well, you were pretty insistent on looking after me even after I told you not to."

"You needed me."

"I would have been fine without you."

"You wanted to go on patrol with a wounded arm and a fever. That's not what I call fine."

"Okay, so I admit, that was not my best moment but... can we lie down somewhere? I'm getting cold."

"Ah, noticing you're losing the argument, so you're changing the subject? Clever."

Dick swats him and walks around the table to the kitchenette. He is completely unconscious of Jason's gaze on him as he wipes himself clean. "There's a mattress in the corner," Dick says absently. "Is that all you have here?"

"Afraid so." Jason scratches his head in lieu of scratching his balls. There is something irredeemably sexy about Dick fully inhabiting his body and showing not a single sign of self-consciousness about it. "I'll get you a blanket."

"Guess I have to pack my PJs next time."

"Next time?" Jason throws over his shoulder as he's rooting around in his cabinets.

"I mean, yeah. This apron is growing on me. I'd like to keep it."

Jason eyes Dick dubiously as he throws a blanket over the mattress and tucks in the edges. "It's dirty."

"I'd still like to keep it."

"Does that mean you want to be wifey, too?"

"No, if anything, I want to be Wife, capital W." Dick points out, lounging in the chair he'd fucked Jason in just now, with his long legs extended in front of him. "I mean, you're a handsome crime boss, surely you have a trophy wife, who is just there to look pretty and make you look more masculine."

"Before you expand that fantasy any further, let me just point out that Red Hood is not the marrying type. He doesn't want anything to do with love."

"It's not about love. It's about owning someone, binding them to you. If you're not comfortable with using Hood for our little playtime, we can come up with other personas. What about Spanky Malone? He seems like the type. I'm channeling a lot of my inner Robbie when I'm being particularly nasty, you know."

Jason... has nothing to say to that, so instead he points toward the mattress and tells Dick to get in. He's still not entirely sure he's thrilled that Dick wants to co-opt being the wife in their relationship, but fucking him _was _immensely satisfying – once he got the hang of it, anyway. It sounds like Dick just wants a playful excuse to bottom for him, and that seems harmless enough.

"Though I think we'll need to do some coordinating to make it work," Dick says as he's getting cozy beneath the sheets. "Like deciding on it before you show up, for example. Or even if we want to use different playgrounds for it."

"Us, talk?" Jason guffaws. He sits down to take off his boots and watches Dick watch him. "We were trained by the Bat, talking is not what we do."

"We can adapt."

"Sure."

"Now get in here and make love to your wife." Dick holds up the edge of his blanket, beckoning.

"Don't you have work in the morning?" Jason puts his boots under the chair, then takes off his pants and his armored shirt.

"Didn't I tell you?" Dick grins. "It's my day off. Maybe we really ought to talk more."

"I think we talked enough for one night," Jason says as he crawls on top of Dick.

"Agreed." Dick nods and hands Jason the bottle of lube. "Time for action."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Forty-Six & 2" by Tool.


End file.
